


I Won't Hold You Back

by bellamys_cheekbones



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Monologue, Oral Sex, Retrospective, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellamys_cheekbones/pseuds/bellamys_cheekbones
Summary: Chris always told me: "This is the last time..." But when will it actually be the last time?





	I Won't Hold You Back

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not good at summaries, nor names!
> 
> This story was made in three days on a writing spree, and while it in the end sounds like a mess, I definitely wanted to share it with you. It's how I imagine Matt's and Chris' relationship _could have _been through time.__
> 
> __  
> _Every read word, kudos and comment is appreciated!_  
> 

My friendship with Chris has always been solid. Sometimes, we would argue and give each other their own opinions, but all of that in a playful manner. It was never serious.

We had our solemn times elsewhere. When we were alone. 

Since we met, there was this strange energy between us. We were young, fresh and we didn't know what lied before us. 

Until I grew up to be fifteen. Chris was a year younger than me, so he wasn't as experienced in life's matters, to say the least. 

I started discovering myself around that time. A raging teenager Matthew Bellamy couldn't be told what to do and all that rubbish. The only thing I was afraid to do was to get to know the sexual side of life. Believe it or not, I _was_ afraid of stepping over some visible line. But I kept pushing myself to linger over border, occasionally my foot would travel across just with its tip.

Chris was too innocent to tell me to stop, when I didn't realise I went too far. And I was too blinded by the sudden hunger that I kept pinning him to my bed, kissing him with a wolfish power.

Stupid hormones, making their way through.

We were working on our homework. Me and Chris were mates through music, so I put on some Led Zeppelin and let it carry the atmosphere. A while later, Chris looked up from the place on my bed. “Hey, Matty, do you think you could help me?” 

I nodded and jumped on the bed, almost landing on him. He yelped in surprise. I laid my body next to him, close proximity was never a problem between us, and started explaining the matter he was struggling with. Simple trigonometry and all this bollocks. 

At one point, I looked up and saw that he was looking directly at me. I realised that I had never actually seen his eyes this close. They were chocolate brown with green patches around his pupils. Mesmerising and beautiful. So beautiful...

I stopped talking, my breath lodged in my throat, and I made a final decision to lean in.

Chris didn’t respond immediately. He was taken aback by my action and he was surely confused. A few seconds later, though, his lips were slowly moving against mine, the movements unsure, but oh so sweet. I cracked my eyes open and saw that Chris’ were closed, but the face he was pulling was a joy to look at.

He enjoyed this. He enjoyed kissing me.

And even if I didn’t open my eyes, I felt him smiling into that kiss, though he would never admit it. 

He was a surprisingly good kisser. Even though it was up to me to have the lead role, since he confessed before that he hadn’t kissed anyone yet, he was still willing to follow the path I was creating, and I decided to step it up a notch.

I abandoned his lips, Chris’ whimper almost breaking my heart, climbed atop of him and pushed him to the mattress, quite roughly taking what I wanted at that moment. The kiss that followed was feral. I used my teeth to gnaw a tad on his bottom lip which I unfortunately hurt in the process, but that only accentuated my curiosity. 

Chris didn’t know what to do with his hands. He started touching my chest, my collar bones, everything, but couldn’t settle for one place. I, on the other hand, kept my fingers raking through his hair, sometimes they would travel to his slowly growing stubble. 

And just like that, I involved my tongue into the game. Chris growled when I first ran the muscle across his lips, but eventually let me in.

There was something slightly awkward about it. He was probably salivating too much and I pinned it to the fact that he wasn’t expecting his first kiss to be with his best friend, a person of the same sex. But hell, I could roam around his tongue, guide his movements, and it was fucking wonderful.

Then, as my hands started exploring lower and lower, reaching Chris’ abdomen, he cried out and pushed me away. He was red in the face, his lips swollen from kissing, breathing heavily, like he was about to have a heart attack. He made up some excuse about needing to be at home and made a beeline for the door, leaving his books behind.

We barely spoke after that. I was mad at myself for launching at him like that, with abandon or foreplay, and he was surely terrified that he didn't try to stop me and was fully accepting.

School was over and we had time to recollect our thoughts. I decided to leave it be. Chris was probably experimenting, so was I, and it was just a one time thing. 

Bullshit.

The next time he went around my house, we were alone again. As soon as Chris laid on my bed with his arms above his head, his shirt riding up, exposing some of his skin, there was no way back. 

We were both scared of doing anything heavier than what we had done already, so we kept kissing, my hands occasionally touching some of the pure skin on his body. And that was it. Each time we were alone or had the opportunity to be alone for a longer period of time, we indulged in this activity, neither of us complaining. 

That was until he was fifteen and met one of the most stunning girls named Kelly. 

We _argued_ , because we obviously didn't have fights, over her not once. He was quite enchanted with her. I wasn't jealous, of course not, but we didn't have time for each other anymore, because he wanted to spend it with Kelly as much as he could. 

So, one time, when we were exchanging our opinions again, he finally and dead-seriously told me one thing, which started the unfortunate events in both of our lives. 

"Matt, I'm going to ask Kelly out. This is the last time I'm only yours."

And I didn't react to it. I only told him that he should probably go and ask Kelly sooner than some other bloke did it and he actually listened and asked the kind girl out. 

The night of the date Chris called me. That his date was good, and that he didn't pull like he thought.

He came around and I wanked him off mercilessly. He whined and kept repeating that he didn't want it, but you could clearly _see_ it in his eyes that he was fucking enjoying every second of my hand on his impressive length. 

I had never done that to another human being than myself and I was scared to say the least. But to hell if I didn't want to elongate our encounter. When his come covered his shirt and my hand, which took embarrassingly short, I was mesmerised that _I_ was the source of his whines, of his trashing, of his _orgasm_. 

We laid in my bed in our T-shirts and underwear afterwards, recollecting our thoughts. His back was turned to me. I don't know what possessed me to throw my arm over his chest and move him towards my front. 

Chris was a walking mess the next few days. He was very scared of speaking to me and when he did, he refused to make eye contact. But he had Kelly and he looked happy after those agonising few days.

And the best thing about it? He kept coming back. 

Even though he said it was the last time he was mine before he started dating Kelly, he still felt the need to come from my hand. 

And every bloody time I kissed him or started touching him, he would sigh in content. It wasn't unwanted; he was enjoying the perverted actions we engaged in. 

We used to do that for another three or four years. Meanwhile, me, Chris and another friend of his, Dom, formed a band together. I liked Dom. He was crazy, blond and had a hell of a talent for drumming. More than I would like to admit to Chris. But it slipped from my tongue one night, when the three of us plus my mate, Tom, were out drinking. 

“Chris, don’t you play the drums as well?” asked Tom.

The tall man blushed. “I sorta do. Well, did. But Dom’s better.”

“Ah, come off it, you’re great too. It was just that you have fingers made for a bass!” said Dom and encircled his shoulders. I felt a strange pang of jealousy.

I don’t know what possessed me to say such thing, but I took a long swig from my glass of beer and started. “You know, I think Chris’ right. Dom’s better at drums. We assigned you with a good role.” Everyone got suddenly quiet and I wondered why was that so. 

A few minutes later, Chris excused himself, but that his girlfriend, Kelly, was awaiting him. I knew that was a lie, because he told me that Kelly travelled abroad. So I decided not to leave him this time and followed him outside.

I finally caught up with him when he was reaching for his car keys. “Hey, Chris, wait!” He was already sitting inside when I opened the door and sat next to him. 

He sighed. “What do you want, Matt?”

What did I want? I didn’t know the answer either. The only thing I knew was that I hated to see him like this and that I didn’t want him to go. “Chris, I don’t know what I said that made you upset. Just please tell me, so I can apologise.”

Chris put his head on the steering wheel. “Matt, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I promise, please, I want to say sorry.”

“No, it’s really nothing, okay?” It was visible in his voice that he was getting angry.

“But Chris, I see you annoyed, I don’t-“

“It’s about you, Matt!” he said, raising his voice, and turned to me. Then he breathed out and calmed down a tad. “It’s about how you keep ignoring me. How you don’t even seem to care about me. Dom seems like your only friend now. And what am I? Air?” He sighed, hitching as if he were about to cry. 

I decided to risk all of this and throw it over my head. I took Chris’ hands in mine, crossed the distance between the seats and sat on his legs, facing him. He looked totally dazed. 

“I know you’re going to regret this, but I know _I_ won’t.” My hands found his bearded chin, held it tightly and pushed it forward, so our lips met in a clumsy kiss. I missed this and I understood that the taste of my tongue was exactly what he welcomed as well.

I heard him whimper and we were exactly where we wanted to be - in each other’s arms. God, it felt so good. The rhythm of our kiss was slow, yet somehow urgent, and tongues probed deep, exploring where we’d left it all those years ago.

After that, we realised we truly needed each other. We kept coming back to this. And we even were on the road to our first album! Life couldn't be better.

Until Chris had to fucking ruin the beautiful reverie.

"Matt, Kelly is pregnant. This is the last time before I have a true responsibility." 

Again, I didn't say much regarding his statement, only that he should name his first child either Alfie or Ava Jo, because I saw some people named like that on a telly recently.

Chris was so unbelievably stupid for actually doing it and to double his dullness, he named his second child after my witty suggestion as well. 

But guess who went to celebrate to my house, royally smashed himself and then let himself be shagged by Matthew Bellamy? 

No other than Chris fucking Wolstenholme. 

Chris drove us to my house and as soon as we were settled in my bedroom, our kisses turned to touch, and our hands began roaming over each other’s bodies. 

He finally got the courage to take off my shirt, savouring each second he could look at my naked chest. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had been waiting far too long. 

With an awkward yank, I got Chris out of his black and blue jumper and immediately my eyes laid on his puffed chest. It was visible the difference between my lanky, lithe body and his butch, waylaid one.

He helped me out of my jeans and boxers, laying me down on the bed. He kissed my mouth, my face, my neck, my collarbones and tasted me the way I would've never expected from him. After a few minutes of this slow buildup, I had to clip his head away in fear of going crazy. 

I tugged at his jeans and he understood what I meant. He stood up from the bed, did a little show of pulling off his trousers and then opened a nightstand drawer where I told him I kept the condoms. 

He laid down next to me and kissed me slowly once again, handing me the plastic packet. I sat on his thighs on my haunches and groaned in pleasure as our cocks touched. As I rolled on the condom on and laid a kiss on his lips, I felt his dick pulsing against my thigh and my skin grew damp with sweat. 

He shuddered as I pulled no punches and with desire in my eyes lowered my shaft to press it against his opening. I knew well enough that it would hurt, but I felt like I needed to know how he would react to this kind of pain exclusively from me.

He exhaled sharply as just my tip slipped in. He surely didn’t expect me to be that big in size. I wanted to push in so bad it almost hurt my chest.

“Please, Matt...” he whispered. I looked back at him, my eyes fully focused on the task, gripping his arms above his head. I nodded in sympathy, almost understanding that it was unbearable for him to wait any longer. 

We both took a deep breath. 

"Are you ready?" I asked in a shaky voice. 

"Never been more."

As I pushed in, bit by bit, the strange sensation of filling someone overtook me for a second. It dawned on me that this was my first time doing this. First time with Chris. 

It must've hurt. So much at first, I saw it in the face he pulled. He groaned out in pain as I made one particular clumsy move. I stretched Chris more than anyone and I alone had problems to keep up with the slowly increasing pace. 

But after a few deep strokes inside him, it dawned on me that I hit that point of pleasure. He squeezed me inside in wanton and from the shake of my arms I realised that I didn't have much time left. 

"Chris. God!" I exclaimed, feeling that lovely pressure building up in my abdomen. 

"Please, Matt, I'm close..." He sounded as breathless as he looked like. His hair was slicked with sweat and a few droplets rolled down his cheeks.

My movements began to be hectic and after three more strokes I was overwhelmed, filling him. He tangled his hands in my hair and pushed our foreheads together, the stark intensity of looking into someone's eyes during orgasm overwhelming him as well.

Our orgasms were almost silent, the only thing I could hear was our heavy breaths. I tried to kiss Chris before collapsing next to him, but he only buried his head in the cushion and fell asleep immediately.

I felt a tad empty without the kiss, but contented.

Finally.

I woke up with a headache and a small, dull pain in my shoulders. I knew what was the source. Better, _who_ was the source. I rolled over, not expecting Chris to reside my bed anymore, but I was pleasantly surprised, when I bumped into another body. Oh, Chris. 

I saw his naked back, his first tattoo on his left shoulder, and I couldn’t resist the urge to touch the hard-pulled skin over his bones. He shivered and turned his face to me. When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely terrified. 

The last thing you want to see after sex you waited for for almost four years. 

He rolled onto his back, hands covering his face and he groaned. Oh no. Oh, fucking hell. 

He regretted what we had done. 

“Chris, I-“ I started, but he cut me off by standing up, searching for his clothes and dashing out of my house once again. 

I thought that was the last time I saw him. That he wouldn’t want to meet up with me anymore. The band would go down and we would be stuck with nothing again. 

I sat down at my piano, opened the keys and started scribbling something. 

_And it’s gonna be our last memory..._

_And it’s over now, Chris, with you..._

I couldn’t make it that obvious. If this was supposed to be our last song, then I had to make the best out of it.

_And it’s gonna be our last memory_

_And it’s led me on_

_And to you..._

My brain proceeded to write until sunset and I decided to name this song _Fillip_. I had to name it after someone, but I didn’t want Chris’ name in it, and Fillip is a common name, so I got stuck with that.

When me, Dom and Chris decided to meet up for what I thought would be the last band meeting, I presented the song as something I wanted to record first hand. 

I kept my eyes on Chris the whole time and he didn’t try to avoid my gaze. He must’ve understood. His fingers didn’t mess up, not even once.

When Dom left for a coffee and smoke, Chris landed in my arms, tears almost rolling down his cheeks. The hug I received was unforgettable.

“Matt. Matt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think it would be this bad. I’m sorry,” he kept apologising in a whispering voice. I patted his back, repeating that it was okay, that I understood. Because really, I did.

I looked him in the eyes. “I was afraid we would break up.”

He brushed his lips with mine. “Never. Matthew James Bellamy, I promise you I will never break up what we have.”

I remember those words vividly. But more than that, I realised that things were going off track with Chris. I was embarrassed to admit that, even though I told myself that it should be normal, since we had been doing this since we were young, but there was still something lingering in my thoughts. 

And after this realisation, my brain woke up. For the look of the band and for my own publicity, I found myself a great companion, Gaia. It _was_ love, indeed - we related on a whole new emotional level. At the same time, I felt there was something missing in our relationship, but I couldn't tell what it was.

Chris didn't say anything. Even if he did, what good would it do? So we kept on coming back to each other, when we could, and kissed and touched until dawn. 

Another three years had gone. Our band, Muse, got quite the fame, we had money, and me and Chris were still involved after all these years. It was like a fairytale.

Until another big event happened in Chris' family. 

"Matt, I'm going to ask Kelly to marry me. This is the last time before I have a proper family life." 

I had to say _something_. He was twenty four and he was about to ruin it with this decision. I asked him if it wasn't a tad early still. He said that it was too late, because he had two kids already. I reacted that he should have learned to pull out on time. We had another argument session and he left my house, determined to break-out the 'w' question to Kelly.

I wasn't naive. I told myself that he wasn't brave enough to do it. Or that he wasn't prepared to give up on me. I sat behind my pianino and tried to come up with a melody that could be used for our new album.

Soon enough, a letter landed in my mailbox. _In the name of Chris and Kelly soon-to-be Wolstenholme-_ God, who the fuck thought this address was a good idea? _we would love to see you-_ Right. After our last exchange, he would surely love to see me struggling in the middle of a desert the least. _at the wedding, which will take place on..._ I stopped reading right there. It was still two months in advance, so I had time to confirm or deny my attendance.

Then I thought, _Bloody hell, I couldn't possibly not be here. He's still my best friend after all, even though he's making a mistake possibly of his life._

So, thanks to my conscience I opened the letter again, read it to the end and in no time wrote the answer to Chris. That yes, I would love to be here, with the emphasis on the word 'love'.

While both of us waited for the D-Day, we couldn't swap two words. Dom was concerned since we were in the middle of recording an album, but chose not to intervene, knowing we had a certain dynamics in our relationship. Our liaisons stopped for the time being, Chris breaking his promise.

Fast forward almost eight weeks and the day was on. I woke up at eleven to three messages from Chris, asking where the hell was I in all caps. I scrubbed up all nice, hair lightly slicked back, and showed up in a dark blue suit almost three hours later for the event. Thankfully, the whole ceremony was scheduled for five in the afternoon, so I still had some time to search for Chris and shamefully apologise to him. 

I gave up after a half an hour of this unsuccessful attempt to find him and simply sat down on my assigned chair. Right next to Chris. He obviously wasn't there, because he must've retreated to the back of this enormous building they rented for the wedding, preparing himself for the ceremony. Holding a glass of white wine, which stood in front of me, I observed the tables. Next to us, there was a table for Dom, Tom, Morgan and Dom Anderson and their girlfriends. I was wondering why he put me to his table and not with Dom and the others. 

The ceremony went well. Chris looked very nervous and he couldn't stop searching for something. Or someone. The vicar had the classic: "We've gathered here..." speech and then got to the root of this whole event. When Chris was asked the big question, he kept looking at me. The intensity of his eyes was mesmerising, but I refused to get it to me.

After the ceremony, all of the guests sat in their respective seats and we were handed dinner. It wasn't really good and I remember talking to Chris and Kelly, so the food would get cold and I had an excuse to leave it.

Chris looked very uncomfortable sitting next to me, so I presumed that Kelly was in charge of the seats and thought that us best friends would love to be close. 

Oh, how much more prudent she should have been. 

I had a neutral relationship with Chris’ wife, leaning towards warm, because Chris sometimes took her to the rehearsals. We talked and she told me how much she appreciated me being there, that Chris thought I wasn’t even going to arrive. I told her that it was no problem, that one little disagreement couldn’t do us, best friends, apart. She seemed happy enough that she left the two us alone and went to chat with her friend, some girl named Caris.

Two awkward minutes passed and we hadn’t spoken a word, until someone decided to collide with my chair, causing it to stumble and I, in fear of falling, grasped Chris’ shoulder for support. My apologetic look couldn’t be compared with his starry eyes. 

We found ourselves fumbling with each other’s clothes in a bathroom, making out furiously, until I couldn’t take the teasing anymore, lowered my head and proceeded to give him the best blowjob of his life, as he told me some years later. 

Chris had thrown me in one of the cramped cubicles and he locked it, before my hands were all over him. I can be pretty forward, when I want something badly. He got caught between a wall and my body without a chance to escape. I kept kissing him, my tongue exploring his mouth slowly, and he couldn't help himself but to moan each time my hand hoovered over the bump that had formed between his legs.

I didn't want to ruin his appearance, because I wasn't entirely stupid, so as soon as I left his lips, I breathed out and kneeled in front of him to unzip his expensive pants and take his cock in my mouth. Gently at first, I alone barely knew what I was doing with my tongue, but I soon figured out the fun side of this pleasuring. I remembered my own likes and dislikes and applied it on Chris.

I was pushing the boundaries of how much of him I could take and it surprised me that Chris could remain his posture. I _know_ I would've crumbled standing like that against the wall. My mouth explored every ridge, every millimetre of the sensitive skin and he loved it. He tried to restrain himself from moaning by biting his lip, but sometimes it slipped out of his lips unconsciously and through the cubicle would sound his low growl. 

His hand in my hair was guiding me at first, but as he was inching closer towards his climax, he let his hand simply rest on my head, occasionally raking through my soft black hair.

Chris came suddenly without a warning and I swallowed it all, though it took all my willpower not to gag. I fixed his pants, stood up and was prepared to leave, but he yanked me back for a final kiss. Then he hurried out and I waited a few minutes, thinking about what had just happened, until I retreated from the bathroom myself. 

Dom was trying to chat me up for the rest of the evening, but all my thoughts flew to the cheerful married couple, specifically to the husband. I was aware of how much this had gotten out of hand, but Chris looked happy and I couldn't do anything else than to give him looks. 

It went on - he would occasionally stop at my house, have a chat with me about the upcoming tour to honour the release of _Origin of Symmetry_ in the US and we would dive into the intimacy. We still rejected the idea of actual shagging, because we were scared, but the pleasure was enough. 

I have to say that it was quite painful to see him return back to his wife and his kids after we were finished. But those were the unspoken rules.

It got better when we started the North American tour in 2006. Americans thought we were some small band, when in Britain we played on being quite big. It was refreshing to relive this all over again, the atmosphere of being new to the rockstar lifestyle got us all caught up in the moment, but Chris was especially affected, since he had started settling down. He didn't know what to do, so he kept coming to me for an advice or just to get distracted. 

Therefore, I was not so pleasantly surprised, when he voiced his thoughts at the end of the tour.

"Matt, the tour is over. This is the last time before I go back to having a proper life."

Aggravated, I exclaimed that he could go fuck Tom for all I cared and ordered him to leave my hotel room immediately.

The last show of the tour was _tremendous_ , but none of us wanted to acknowledge that, since it was the last one and all of us longed for their own house and their own bed to lay in. 

Chris drove me home from the airport, but before he left, he asked me, if he could go inside to apologise for everything.

The apology ended up being a pay-off for the incident at his wedding, and I can't say I wasn't surprised by his behaviour. But as he was kneeling in front of me, holding my hips with shaking hands, I realised that this was not him, not even from the dark side of personality, and that I couldn't have him doing what was considered normal only for me. 

I grabbed him by the shoulders, pushed him up, so he was standing straight in front of me and kissed him. His hand went caressing my hair, the blonde streak I had dyed running through his rough fingers. I sent him home with the words that there was somebody waiting for him rather than here, and that he should forget that something had even happened in my bedroom. 

Safe to say that I was sleeping alone physically, but with a lot of thoughts in my mind that night.

I was fucking tired of this... These meetings with Chris had drained everything from me and I wasn't able to look at the world with the right eyes anymore. I had to change my entire existence.

I started off by confessing to Gaia that I had an affair. I didn't say with whom, though she pressured me heavily into saying that as well, but I resisted, only that I was cheating on her and that it was up to her, what her decision was going to be. I secretly hoped for a good ending for me, but there was a minuscule chance of that. 

She moved out three days after. We called out the engagement and everything was back to normal - I was alone, but I had enough time for making music and contemplating my life choices, again. 

All because of Chris. 

Even though he was there for me emotionally the first few days of the post-break up, we still ended up half-naked in my bed, running hands on the exposed skin. 

I've never felt so horrible in my entire life, because how everybody around me all got what they wanted and I was their punching bag, this abandoned case that would never live a proper life and so on. 

And when I had finally gotten my shit together and fixed up my life - meaning I bought a new house, found a new girlfriend, who was a beautiful actress for that matter, and my career seemed to be on its rise again, Chris came into the picture again and totally tore it down.

He said he needed help and what not. That he was fighting with Kelly and that he was out of control with his drinking problem, all while trying to give up smoking. I saw the misery in his eyes and for the sake of his family, his reputation, _him_ alone I risked my own personal life, spending every free minute with him, encouraging and comforting him. Sometimes, we would lay in bed together, me holding him and we would talk about complete nonsense. Those were the days I cherished the most.

I lost a second fiance along with her own kid, who was a best friend to my son Bing. Hatred replaced a large part of my thoughts and I felt wretched the first month of being abandoned like that. But I started realising that that woman kept draining energy from me and that the mental abuse was enough from her side. I was free again and the smile started returning to my life. Everybody saw it and they started congratulating me. 

I felt that lucky and confident that I chatted up a smart and beautiful model and we hit it off pretty well. I think she started suspecting something; she saw how my eyes would light up just talking about Chris, how I would always spend time with him alone and the little details that you wouldn't normally latch onto. But I guess she was fine with it, as long as it was Chris and not some unknown groupie. 

That was until Chris stopped pretending being happy and confessed. 

"Matt, me and Kelly are separating." 

No _"this is the last time..."_ , nothing. He just wanted to let me know that he wasn't whole anymore and that I could try and fix it. At least that's what I thought.

When I tried to lever the reason out of him, he wouldn't comply, and I didn't blame him. I stopped trying after what seemed like an eternity and we kept on doing what we were used to do. 

When Elle was out of the house, I called Chris to see if he wanted to come around. I included no reason and no unnecessary commentary, because we didn't have to pretend anymore. We talked for a while and in his minute of vulnerability, he told me that Kelly and him separated, because he had told her what we had been doing for the past couple of years. That he couldn't take it anymore, the lies and the false feeling of faithfulness, and he had told her everything. 

"Wrong move," I remember telling him with a thought that he would smile. He didn't and kept on looking at his feet. Then, out of the blue, he looked up, grabbed my head and forced his tongue in my mouth. He paid no attention to my whines and that I didn't expect his attack at all, but I soon complied, laying us both down on the bed we were sitting on. 

During this encounter, he looked like he enjoyed the pain more than the slides of my cock, maybe because he thought of this as some kind of punishment for him. But I soon found him with closed eyes, mouth open like a fish, calling out my name before releasing himself on my abdomen. 

It took a little longer to come myself, but kissing Chris helped out the most. The strokes of his talented tongue, curling around mine made me think how it would feel to have it curling around my shaft and I was quickly coming undone with the same intensity as him. 

We slept in my bed for about two hours, Chris holding my hand the whole time. Then we carried on with our normal lives, but there was this feeling of unhappiness every time we met under those circumstances. We dove in too deep, our liaisons becoming more about sex than the talking afterwards. 

And one heated night, I finally realised that what we were doing was hurting not only our private lives, but us from the inside as well. It was because Chris had tears in his eyes, which soon began rolling unconsciously down his cheeks. When I asked him if I was hurting him, he just shook his head and told me to continue. 

I definitely knew he was still trying to forget his broken family, but what was behind it? And it clicked. Thankfully, I'm not completely stupid and I could figure it out.

He realised that it was _his_ fault that his family life wasn't going well. He kept coming back to me, god knows why and that this had to stop. He was hurting, because he _knew_ this had to end in order to pull himself together. I saw it in his eyes, the sorrow, but we both knew it had to be done.

I saw him unravel for the last time - which I didn't know, whether it was actually for the last time - and I collapsed next to him, breathing heavily. And after I caught my breath, I let out the words that we were dreading to say from the very start. 

"This has to stop." 

As usual, Chris was holding my hand and I felt him press it together, as if it was a silent agreement. He didn't leave until the morning, the whole night spent curled against my front. 

And we truly didn't break our promise. It was surely a struggle for him, because he couldn't find a person to share his thoughts with, while still maintaining a meaningful relationship with them. But it finally happened. 

2018 was a successful year. For the band, for our separate lives, but to be brutally honest, I cared only about that one day Chris called me. Well, that night, because it was around three am.

"Matt, I've asked Caris, if she wanted to marry me."

I waited a few beats for a continuation, but there was none. And for the first time, I was glad that he didn't continue.

My lips curled into a smile and I answered with a question that if he woke me up just to say this. He laughed. 

The wedding was beautiful. I caught a glimpse at his suit right before the ceremony and complimented him on the taste. There was a comfortable silence and then he pulled me into a bear hug, thanking me for everything I'd done for him. 

And why do I still remember Chris' words after I've written _Fillip?_

He moved backwards, looking into my eyes and whispered. "Matthew James Bellamy, I promise you again that I will never break up this friendship we have." 

Honestly? I could care less about shagging after the hug and those words that are still written vividly in my memory.


End file.
